


Take Me Away

by soupslut



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Female Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert, Running Away, Self-Insert, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), red dead redemption - Freeform, red dead redemption 2 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soupslut/pseuds/soupslut
Summary: Months of being with Arthur Morgan are thrown down the drain when an arranged marriage is put into place. You and Arthur must savor your last moments together.





	Take Me Away

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhhhhhhhhh...this is my first AO3 fic, and my first RDR2 fic. soooo, quite frankly I don't know how any of this works. please do the AO3 equivalent of following, liking, and commenting. I would really appreciate it :)

Arthur scanned the vast fields for workers-  _ empty.  _ He let out a sigh of relief before climbing up to your Juliet balcony. Luckily for him, the doors were open. He peeked in your room, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of you sitting on your bed; however, this relief was short lived. Your back was towards Arthur, but he could see the unmistakable quivering of your shoulders, and he could hear the light sniffles and whimpers that escaped your lips.

“Shit,” Arthur muttered, quickly making his way over to you.

You tensed, jumping up from the bed. “Oh,” you released a shaky breath. “A-Arthur, it’s you.” You hastily wiped your tears away, sniffling slightly. It was no use though, it was quite evident that you had been crying. “I thought-I thought we were gonna meet tomorrow, at the saloon in-”

“We were, but I had to see you again.” Arthur took a step forward taking your hands in his own. “What’s got you so wound up?” He brought a hand up to your face, running a calloused hand over your cheekbones.

“I- Arthur-” Sobs overcame your body, and you fell into Arthurs arms. He wrapped his arms around you, sitting down on your bed. He pulled you into his lap, comforting you. His hands ran up and down your back, stopping occasionally to work out some. After a while you had finally managed to calm down enough to talk. “Arthur, my parents, they’ve set me up for an arranged marriage.” Arthur froze. His hands stopped at your hips, gripping them tightly, any harder and you would have bruises when you woke up. “The son of some rich oil mogul in northern New Hanover. We’re...going up to their manor tomorrow evening. We’ll be staying there until the ceremony. By the end of the month I’ll be made an honest woman.” You let out a deep sigh through quivering lips. You had hoped that letting it all out would make it all better. You were wrong. “It’s over, Arthur.”

For a moment, the room was dead silent.  In mere moments, the tension and heat in the room rose exponentially. Arthur removed a hand from your hip and kept it at his side, you felt it clenching and unclenching over and over. A cool breeze drafted through your room bringing with it the faint scent of dirt and sweet tobacco plants. The breeze no longer felt refreshing, instead it burned your skin. 

Your head rested on Arthur’s chest, you could hear his heart drumming erratically in his chest. Hot tears slipped down your face, soaking into Arthur’s rough woolen button down. You tilted your head up to catch a glimpse at Arthur. He was seething. 

You brought a shaking hand up to Arthur’s cheeks. His face was hot to the touch. Your thumb ran gently over his lips, then moving over to the cheeks, repeating the action. “Arthur,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry.”

Arthur snapped out of his daze, turning his attention back to you. He shook his head, covering your hand with his own. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to be sorry for, Y/N.”

You slipped your hand out from underneath Arthur’s. Letting it fall to his shoulder. “I’m sorry for myself Arthur. I’m sorry for the poor boy who’s about to enter a marriage forever void of love. And I’m  _ so  _ sorry for you Arthur. This-  _ us - _ has just been a huge waste of time.”

“No,” Arthur said. His voice held a tone you’ve never heard before. “Don’t say that. It’s not a waste of time it’ll never be.” Arthur placed you on the bed next to you, then knelt down on the floor in front of you. He took your hand in his own, placing it on his chest and holding it there. You could feel his heart beating under your fingertips. It was a steady drum, as opposed to the erratic thumping from earlier. “We’re gonna work this out, don’t you mind that pretty little head of yours.”

After a moment, Arthur dropped your hands, standing up. He started pacing the room, muttering incoherently to himself. This went on a long while, only breaking for a moment when your parents walked past your room, luckily the door was shut and neither of them bothered to check up on you, knowing that they would rather walk by then deal with your hostility towards them.

“Maybe I can go up and scare ‘em, make the little punk call off the ceremony. Or...or…” Arthur sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, “God, I wish Hosea were here. He would know what to do.”

“Arthur, there’s nothing we can do besides...well, savor the moment before-before it’s too late.” You reached your hand out to Arthur, tears built up in your eyes once again,  _ “Please,  _ I don’t want this to end, not before it has to.”

For the first time since you met Arthur, after the endless gunshot wounds, robberies gone wrong, testing moral dilemmas, you finally witnessed Arthur Morgan give up. His shoulders slumped over, a silent breath escaping his plush lips. Arthur slumped against the doorframe of your balcony, arms crossed. He peered out into the night.

You leaned over and shut off the gas lamp on your nightstand. You slid off the bed and padded over to Arthur, wrapping your arms around his waist. You paced your forehead between his shoulder blades and took a deep breath, inhaling his comforting scent of musk, citrus, and sweat. “I love you, Arthur Morgan.” You mindlessly fiddled with the buttons on Arthur’s shirt. “Thank you for making these past few months of my life so…  _ spectacular.”  _ Hot tears burnt lines down your face, “No matter what happens tomorrow, I want you to know that I’ll think of you. Every morning, every night- you’ll be on my mind. You hold my heart, Arthur Morgan. And I’ll always love you.” 

You couldn’t hold it anymore, you hugged Arthur even tighter, burying your face into his back. You uncontrollably sobbed, desperately gasping for air. Hands clenched and unclenched at fabric, scratching skin beneath it. You croaked and cried, sobbing harder than you ever had before.

“Come with me.” Three curt words.

You tilted your neck to stare at the back of his neck. “What?”

Arthur turned in your arms. He brushed your hair back with his palm, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Come with me, right now. We can stay with the gang a few months, but I’ve-” There was a passionate gleam in Arthur’s eyes you had never seen before. He bit back a smile before speaking again, “-I’ve been savin’ up money-  _ a lot.  _ Enough to settle down. I’m thinkin’ about somewhere up north, Kansas, or maybe even Louisiana.” Arthur leaned in, mere inches away from your face, “You ever been to Louisiana? I’ve heard it’s  _ beautiful.”  _

“Run away.” You repeated, “Run away?” You laughed nervously, “Arthur, I-I can’t.” Your eyes darted around the floor as you tried convincing yourself. You couldn’t find a single reason to stay.

“Why not?” Arthur asked, his hands hovered over your hips by mere millimeters.

You chuckled, biting your lip. “I…” you laughed, “I haven’t packed yet.”

Arthur let out a boisterous laugh. He grabbed your hand and twirled you around you two were teenagers again, dancing around like fools. “Well, let’s get to it!”

* * *

By the time the moon was at its highest in the sky, you were descending from your balcony. Arthur’s hands were on your waist, steadying your landing. He hopped on his horse. “M’lady,” he teased, extending his hand toward you. You giggled, graciously accepting his invite, letting him lift you up on his horse, sitting you in front of him on the saddle.

His chin rested in the crook of your neck. One arm snaked its way around your waist, the other gripped the reins tightly. “You ready?” He asked, breath hot against your neck.

You nodded, hands finding their place on Arthur’s arm. “Take me away from here, Mister Morgan.”


End file.
